Crack Stories of Old
by Eques Pirate
Summary: My collection of crack fics that I couldn't bring myself to delete completely.  Includes a Firebolt obsessed Harry, a Snape with clean hair, a NEWT crazed Hermione, and a Christmas at the Weasleys.  2006.
1. Precious

Author's Note: Recently, I began the "Pimp my Profile" movement to improve what I have posted on this site, revisit what I had written quite some time ago, and see what I should take down completely. I found that while I wanted to take down these crack fics, at the same time I didn't want them to die. Thus, I decided to re-upload them as a single story, and to fix the punctuation/grammar mistakes I made as a wee-little high school freshman. After the release of HP7, some of them have become AU; I debated making them fit into the cannon, but decided against it. This is what I wrote at that point in my life, and that is how it will stay...you know, except for the punctuation that makes me cringe when I think about it.

_**July 19, 2006**_

_**Precious**_

Harry quickly made his way up to Professor McGonagall's office with a number of other students. They had all received notes stating that their confiscated possessions were to be returned there. Finally, he would have his beloved broomstick back!

There was a very long line already as he and the others arrived to the office. Harry supposed they had all been taken by the mad old hag.

_As soon as I get back my broom, I'm going to go flying with Ron. Maybe I could even get Hermione to go!_ Harry thought this as the line moved forward, slowly. He watched various students walk by, carrying all sorts of things.

Finally, it was his turn. McGonagall turned to the large pile behind her that took up almost all of the room, muttering, "Potter, Potter…"

She retrieved a box from the edge of the pile with his name on it, and placed it in his hands.

"I think that's everything that Professor Umbridge took from you over the year, Potter. Come back if you're missing anything," she said, looking tired.

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry.

He retreated down the hall at a quick pace; he dodged behind a tapestry that hid a secret passage once he was around the corner. He settled himself down on the stairs and opened the box. It was rather bigger than it looked on the inside and he found that he would have to do some digging to get to his broom, his Precious.

Harry pulled out a few of Fred and George's joke shop materials, setting them on the steps next to him, and heading back into the box. There were several letters inside that he had received after _The_ _Quibbler_ interview, a package of what looked like dungbombs from (his throat caught) Sirius with a note to wreak havoc as much as possible for him.

He even found some letters that he didn't even know had been sent to him by Fred and George, dated sometime after they had left the castle. He placed them aside in order to read them later, and pulled out many more items that he didn't even remember having confiscated until just then. Becoming annoyed, Harry pulled out one more item (which happened to be a threat letter from Voldemort: _Potter, you shall die, The Dark Lord. _How original.) before simply dumping the whole thing upside down.

Franticly searching the stuff on the floor, he located his Firebolt under _The Quibbler_ issue that had been taken from him and firmly held his broom in his hand.

He caressed it gently, whispering, "Don't worry, Precious…That mean old hag can't hurt you now…Harry's here…" He hugged the broom.

Harry sat there with "Precious" for quite awhile before Ron found him and hugged Harry's broom as well. Hermione walked in minutes later, looking confused.

"Ron, I thought you said you were just going to find Harry and come right back!" she said, and then stopped dead as she saw Ron and Harry practically worshiping the Firebolt.

And so, Hermione left them there until Filch found them at one in the morning, gently cleaning the Firebolt in the hallway.

_**The End**_


	2. Fluffer Nickel

_**August 19, 2006**_

_**Fluffer Nickel**_

_If you ever want to see Fluffer Nickel again, you will wash your hair so it is presentable to the rest of the world. He will be returned to you in the Great Hall tomorrow if you have followed the instructions._

He stared at the heavy-duty shampoo/conditioner clutched in his hand. He had to do this. It was for his best friend, his only friend.

He began to wet his hair down in the sink (he refused to do more than the ransom note asked) and squirted a generous amount of the bluish cream into his hand. _It's for Fluffy, it's for Fluffy!_

He worked the shampoo/conditioner through the clumps of tangle and grease in his black hair as it began to burn his scalp; it felt like acid! Whoever was responsible for this atrocious act would pay dearly.

Finally, he began to rinse the suds from his head and face where it had dripped. They ran down the sink, disappearing in the drain. Quickly drying his head, he stormed out of the dungeons, sweeping up the stairs as quickly as he could while still maintaining the intimidating aura he had built up over the past fifteen years.

_This had to be the work of Potter. That idiot boy and stupid Weasley! Oh, when I get my hands on those two…_

Yanking open the doors to the Great Hall, and ignoring the stares from both students and teachers (undoubtedly at his newly bouncy and buoyant dark brown hair) he stormed up to the end of the Gryffindor table and slammed his hand down between Potter and Weasley.

They both froze instantly, and turned around, food still hanging off their forks (and out of Weasley's mouth). He could practically see their minds working furiously, trying to find how to escape the almighty wrath of Professor Severus Snape.

"What…have you done with him?" he demanded in a deadly whisper, causing both boys to flinch.

"With who, Professor?" asked the Boy-Who-Would-Be-Destroyed.

"You know perfectly well who!" shouted Snape, making everyone who hadn't already been watching turn away from their food.

"I believe you mean this, Severus," said a calm voice behind him.

Snape spun around to face…Dumbledore? There he was, eyes twinkling, holding Fluffer Nickel.

"_You_ did this?" Snape said in a voice a complete awe.

"Yes, Severus, it was I. And it seems that you have given in to my demands! Jolly good!" Dumbledore said.

"You planned this?" exclaimed Snape, eyes widening.

"Well, with the help of some select staff members who have had complaints about the, err, problem."

"Just give him back to me!" Snape snarled.

_He cannot be talking about that, can he? It has to be a pet or something, right?_ This thought ran through Harry's mind along with most of the student body's.

Dumbledore handed Snape the fuzzy…pink…carebear…

Severus embraced his best-ist friend in the whole, wide world, Fluffer Nickel.

_**End**_


	3. Hermione's Request

_**October 3, 2006**_

_**Hermione's Request**_

"We're going back."

Harry looked around at Hermione in the process of completing the spell to destroy Hufflepuff's cup. "What?" he asked, stopping the spell.

"We're going…back."

"Uh, Hermione, we were kind of in the middle of something here. Something _important,_" Ron said to her. "What are you even talking about?"

"It's June. We have to go back for N.E.W.T.'s!" she exclaimed. Something was in her eyes, something…bad…malicious…terrifying.

"Hermione, the school closed, remember?" Harry said, through clenched teeth. He was about to destroy a bit of Voldemort's soul here!

"I…don't…care…we are going back and _taking our_ _EXAMS_!" she shouted, growing louder with every word. There was a furious gleam in her eyes that clearly resembled Oliver Wood's before a Quidditch match.

"Hermione, we can take exams…um, later, as in, when we kill You-Know-Who. Doesn't that seem a lot more logical? Come on, you like logic!" Ron said.

"No, we will go back _now_," she said in a deadly whisper. "And if I catch either of you cheating on your exams, I swear I will—"

_Clang_!

Hermione crumpled on the floor of the cave, having been hit over the head with the large cup.

"Harry! What did you do that for?" exclaimed Ron.

"Do _you _want to go back and take exams?"

"…You're right; hurry up!"

And so, they left her there until she woke up, which was surprisingly fast, seeing as Harry and Ron had only taken two steps towards the exit after destroying the Horcrux.

"Where do you think you're going?" she shouted, and they both stopped dead in their tracks. "You are going to sit those exams, and you are going to LIKE IT!"

Hermione drew her wand and hit both Harry and Ron in one shot, teleporting them both to The Great Hall at Hogwarts. It seemed as though she had been planning this; there were rows and rows of desks, the giant hourglass at the front used for exams, and a very confused teacher at the front with sheets of parchment.

"Hermione's gone mad," was the only thing the two could say as Hermione appeared next to them.

"Well, sit down," she said brightly, taking her own seat at the front. When neither of them moved she tried again. "I SAID, SIT DOWN!"

The two now horribly frightened boys did so, and Hermione continued, "Well, sir, what are the rules for this exam?"

"Uh…isn't this school supposed to be clo—"

"THE RULES!"

The man let out a little scream of terror before he jumped into action. "Uh, no talking, stay in your seat, you have one hour, and if any of you are caught cheating your grade will be neutralized, understood?"

"Yes, sir," said Hermione pleasantly.

"Very well th-then, you may b-begin."

"Sir, you've forgotten to give us our papers!"

"Oh, right then, h-here."

"Thank you," she said sweetly before looking down at her paper and scribbling madly.

Neither Harry, nor Ron moved. When Hermione heard no scratching of quills, she turned around.

"START THE TEST!"

Both Harry and Ron obliged, too scared of Hermione to do any more. Everything was quiet until…

"Well what do we have here? Potter back at school?," said a cold voice from the end of the hall. Harry whipped around; it was Voldemort.

"Oh, Voldemort! You're LATE! SIT DOWN, AND TAKE YOUR TEST!" Hermione shrieked at him.

"Um, right then," he said, obviously fearing Hermione as well. He sat next to Harry. "What is wrong with her? What are we doing?"

"I don—"

"NO TALKING!"

_**The End**_


	4. The Fat Muggle Murderer

_**December 23, 2006**_

_**The Fat Muggle Murderer**_

Harry looked at Ron in surprise. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm clogging the fireplace," said Ron, "why?"

"Uh, because normally, people do not clog fireplaces with a pile of something that resembles jelly," said Harry.

"This is Anti-Muggle cream, for your information, mate!"

"What?"

"Oh, right, you wouldn't know, would you? Every Christmas Eve we have to put this stuff in our chimney so the Fat Muggle Murderer won't get in," Ron explained casually as he wiped more of the jelly stuff in the fire place.

"Ron, what are you talking about?" inquired Harry, seriously pondering whether his friend was still sane.

"Well, every Christmas Eve, a murderer comes onto the roofs of houses and tries to kill everyone inside and steal all of the presents!"

"Ron, are you talking about Santa Clause?" asked Harry.

Ron gasped. "We speak his name even less that Voldemort's!"

"Whoa, Ron! You just said Voldemort!"

"Don't say that name either!"

"I know that, Ron, now what is your issue with Santa?"

Ron fell from his knees, twitching on the floor.

At that moment, Fred and George walked into the room. "What happened—"

"—to him?" the two asked in unison, looking at Ron.

"I asked him why he thought Santa Clause was a murderer and—oh my God." Harry didn't bother finishing as Fred and George fell to the floor as well, twitching and shaking.

"What's going on in here?" asked Percy.

"They're having issues with Santa Clause," but as soon as Harry uttered the name, Percy joined the twitching party on the floor.

"Harry? Is something wrong?" asked Mr. Weasley as he and his wife stepped in.

"Santa Clause."

The same effect held.

Bill and Charlie then walked in. "What's going on?" Bill asked.

Harry sighed. "Santa Clause-phobia is going on."

"Oh."

They fell as well.

"Why am I here again?" asked Harry to no one in particular.

"Uh, for Christmas, remember, Harry?" said Ginny from the door way. "You start asking about the Fat Muggle Murderer?"

"Yep."

"You say his name?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, well you do know that'll now he's going to come here, right?"

"What?"

"Yeah, that's why you can't say his name and—"

Before she could finish, there was an explosion from the chimney. "HOHOHO!" came a shout from behind the dust.

"WE'RE ALL GONNA DIEEEEE!" shrieked Ginny!

"Don't worry, I know how to defeat him!" yelled Harry. "I learned this off of a video game that Dudley was playing!" He paused to draw breath. "Esualc Atnas!"

"What the hell was that?" asked Ginny.

"By saying his name backwards, I have defeated him! And now I shall—oh, oh crap, oh he's not dead…uh…well this is awkward."

"Hohoho! Now I shall kill you all and steal your presents!"

"Okay, I know exactly what to do now!" exclaimed Harry.

"What's that?"

"RUN!"

And so, Santa Clause killed the Weasleys except for Ginny who is currently in hiding with her soul mate, Harry. No one got presents that year except Santa, and after supposedly defeating Harry, he took over the world in all his jolly evilness. 

_**The End**_


End file.
